


Leave Yourself Upon My Doorstep

by vivalamusaine



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, First Kiss, Fluff, French Kissing, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7542466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalamusaine/pseuds/vivalamusaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It started out with something small.</p><p>Grantaire had mentioned offhand to Bahorel in a meeting that he’d used up his last sketchbook and would have to get a new one his next payday. </p><p>The next day when he stepped out of his apartment there was one waiting for him."</p><p>Grantaire begins receiving gifts from a mystery sender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Yourself Upon My Doorstep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivalataire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalataire/gifts).



> A Birthday present for the ever so lovely and beautiful Hannah. (Vivalataire)

**T minus 30 days.**

 

It started out with something small.

Grantaire had mentioned offhand to Bahorel in a meeting that he’d used up his last sketchbook and would have to get a new one his next payday.

The next day when he stepped out of his apartment there was one waiting for him. It was much better quality than the usual ones he bought for himself. The paper was thicker and sturdier and made especially for watercolour paints and the cover was leather bound instead of plastic. Feeling incredibly grateful and a little bit guilty, Grantaire immediately grabbed his phone and dialed Bahorel’s number.

“Hey Bahorel, Thanks for the sketch book. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“C’mon man. I told you that I needed a new one yesterday and today there’s one on my doorstep. You’re telling me that’s not you?”

“Grantaire, I have no idea what you’re talking about. But If you want to give me credit for something I haven’t done you can buy me a beer tonight.”

Completely confused Grantaire continued on with his day like he normally would, all the while wondering who had left him the small but thoughtful gift. Eventually the week rolled on and he forgot about the mystery, his mind supplying him with a myriad of other worries and dramas to spend his days thinking about.

 

**T minus 23 days.**

 

Again it was mentioned offhand.

“God I can’t believe you’re missing out on seeing them live!” Courfeyrac had groaned. “They’re only in the city for a week! Who am I supposed to go with now?”

“Sorry Courf,” Grantaire said painting away. He’d already worked through half of his new sketchbook and was currently busy shading in the contours of Jehan’s cheekbones. “I just can’t afford to spend money on concert tickets right now.”

“But you’re a bigger fan than I am!” Courfeyrac whine.

“Well in that case if you’re so kindly offering up your ticket to me-”

“Oh hell no! I’m not giving away my chance for the hot drummer to find me standing out in the crowd and fall in love with me!”

The conversation turned into laughter and another point of discussion and it wasn’t long before it was out of Grantaire’s mind completely.

The next morning he awoke to find a small blank envelope underneath his door. With no handwriting or address written he was a bit hesitant to open it. Sliding his thumb along the seal and carefully tearing it he had to stop himself from physically screaming.

 

_Concert tickets._

 

 **((Me:))** ok ive either got a very generous stalker who knows exactly wat i want or you’re behind this  
  
**Delivered. 9.22am**

 

 **((Courfey Cup:)** ) ???????????????

**Received. 9.23am**

 

 **((Me:))** ….wait r u seriously not behind this?

**Delivered. 9.24am**

 

 **((Courfey Cup:))** I thought we made a rule about no drinking before noon??? You’re not making any sense.

**Received. 9.26am**

 

 **((Me:))** okay a) thats a dumb rule that i never agreed to b) im not even drunk sooooo c) so ur srsly telling me u didnt leave me an envelope with concert tickets the day after u begged me to come to said concert with u??? Really?

**Delivered. 9.28am**

 

 **((Courfey Cup:))** Umm okay well A) excuse me I did not beg. I reserve that kind of language for the boudoir B) no that wasn’t me but most importantly C) WHAT YOU GOT A TICKET??? I’M SO STOKED NOW WE CAN WORK ON MY MASTER PLAN TO MAKE DRUMMER BOY FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!!!!!!

This time it was a bit more difficult to forget the mystery behind the gift, and Grantaire felt the nagging question of who was looking out for him linger at the back of his mind for the rest of the day. It wasn’t as though the gifts were making him uncomfortable, on the contrary- they made his heart swell in a way that was usually reserved for corny Christmas films and cheesy rom-coms. It was the burden of a curiosity that could not be quenched that was driving him mad.

 

**T minus 16 days.**

 

“Marius, lend me your pen.”

“What’s wrong with yours?”

“It’s gone dry. The karmic consequence of buying the cheap shit I suppose.”

“Okay, just make sure you remember to give it back at the end of the meeting.”

“Fucking hell Marius, it’s just a pen.”

“It is not just a pen! It’s inscribed with my initials! Cosette had it made for me on my birthday last year.”

“Jesus, nevermind then. Keep your goddamn love pen it’s not like I take coherent notes at these things anyway.”

He really should have seen it coming at this point. It was almost like clockwork.

Waiting outside his door in a leather snap button pouch was a beautifully silver T-clip ballpoint pen. Sketch books were one thing, concert tickets were another level, but this? This looked expensive. Not only expensive but it had been purchased on his most off-handed comment yet. He hadn’t even mentioned the want for a pen, just expressed a temporary need.

He didn’t bother asking Marius. The boy was sweet and a little too romantic but he knew he definitely was not behind this.

 

**T minus 13 days.**

 

He was careful this time. He was watching them. It had to be one of them.

But who?

Suddenly gripped by the desire to know, a plan formed in his mind and he knew exactly what had to be done.

_Weed them out._

He approached Bahorel and Feuilly first and joined them at his table. Causally contributing to the conversation as though he didn’t have an ulterior motive he waited patiently for Feuilly to excuse himself. Now it was just he and Bahorel, and nobody in eavesdropping distance around.

“Oh man,” He sighed dramatically as he lifted his glass to his lips. “What I wouldn’t give for new pair of Doc Martins. Mine are scuffed to shit.”

“Well maybe if you stopped kicking random shit over they’d last a little longer.” Bahorel replied with a booming laugh.

“But then how will I quench my need for meaningless vandalism?”

The seed was planted and now he only had to wait.

 

**T Minus 12 Days.**

****  
  
There was no pair of new boots waiting for him outside his door.  
  
That was Bahorel off the list.

 

**T Minus 9 Days.**

 

He was overly delighted to find something waiting for him at his doorstep and silently fisted the air in celebration.

He had spoken to Jehan the night before about a vintage record he’d had his eye on and it looked like he’d found his culprit.

However upon picking up the box and inspecting it closer his bliss quickly faded. He realised suddenly that there was no way this could contain a record, it was too small and rectangle shaped. Frowning at the packaging he ripped it open carefully.

Before he could stop it an audible gasp escaped him. In a neat wooden box lay a set of a dozen acrylic paint tubes. Good quality paints as well and the brand was-

_Bastard._

Suddenly the memory struck him like an old betrayal. Over a month ago he had been lamenting the fact that his last good acrylics were running out. In a dramatic flourish for attention he had practically announced his desire for new ones to the whole room.

His own plan had been foiled by past mistakes.

It could have been any of them.

 

**T Minus 5 Days.**

 

He was getting really frustrated now. Thoughts of the mystery gifter were consuming him. The fact that he’d seemed to have hit a dead end with his plan was setting him on edge. Slumped over his glass at the end of the bar he sat thinking of all the possibilities.

He was beginning to think endeavoring further was a waste of time.

“The meeting’s starting soon.” An ethereal voice behind him said, drawing him out of his sombre contemplation and making him turn suddenly. Upon seeing the pressing lines in Grantaire’s brow Enjolras frowned. “Is everything alright?”

Grantaire forced a smile out to him. Coming in from the light snow falling outside, the tips of Enjolras’ cheekbones were flushed a soft pink and a few snowflakes were clinging to the edges of his ringlets, threatening to fall upon the shoulders of his coat. It seemed a trick of a light the way his eyes shimmered in waves of ocean blue. But Grantaire had known Enjolras long enough to accept the fact that certain parts of him were just unexplainably magical.

“I’m fine.” He said finally, soft and low. The fake smile that had stretched across his cheeks was becoming genuine in Enjolras’ company. “I’m just having a little trouble figuring something out.”

Enjolras shifted his umbrella’s hook to balance on his arm as he welcomed himself to the empty seat beside Grantaire.

“Anything I can help you with?” He asked quiet and kind and for a moment Grantaire took a second to bask in the warmth of his voice.

Enjolras was still looking at him expectantly and he sighed finally, snapping himself out of his enchantment. “Well I mean unless you know who's been leaving me gifts on my doorstep I really don’t think so.”

Enjolras seemed a little taken back.

“Someones been leaving you gifts?” He asked slowly.

Grantaire laughed at his tone. “I know. I was shocked too.”

Enjolras looked at him carefully, as though he was trying to figure something out.

“Why are you upset about the gifts. Do you not like them?” Enjolras asked his eyes set on Grantaire’s face and the intensity of his gaze made Grantaire feel like he was trying to X-Ray his thoughts.

“What? No!” Grantaire said quickly, surprised at the question. “They’re nice. Too nice for me if we’re being completely honest. It’s just kind of bugging me that I don’t know who’s been leaving them.” He suddenly felt incredibly petty; only he could turn such a kind gesture into something to complain about. “I’d just like to say thank you… And I feel bad that I can’t return the favour.”

Enjolras pressed him a touching smile. “That’s kind of you. But people generally don’t give gifts to merely get them in return.”

“Then why?” Grantaire blurted out. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was demanding an explanation from Enjolras of all people but it had been playing on his mind for the last few weeks and running itself into the ground. Saying the question out loud cemented a justification for his contemplation.

“I… I don’t know.” Enjolras said seemingly taken aback. “Maybe they just want to see you happy.”

“Well it would make me a lot happier if I could thank them in person.” Grantaire said sighing. Seeing a look of confliction in Enjolras’ eyes and realising how ridiculous he must be sounding he laughed a little. “It’s silly. Here I am being showered in gifts from a mysterious wonder and I’m bitching about it.” He shook his head and made to head towards the meeting.

He was halfway across the room when Enjolras said suddenly. “Maybe they don’t want you to know for a reason.”

Grantaire turned on his heel, realising suddenly that Enjolras hadn’t left the stool at the bar.

“What?” He asked confused.

Enjolras stood up and crossed the small distance between them, the sudden proximity between them made Grantaire’s heart speed up and he had to stop himself from taking an instinctual step backwards.

“Maybe they just…” For once Enjolras seemed lost for words. He looked over Grantaire’s face with an expression of exasperation before sighing. “Nevermind.”

Before Grantaire could comprehend what had just occurred Enjolras had stepped around him and disappeared. He was left standing in the center of the room staring incomprehensibly at the empty doorway.

A cold realisation snapped him back into reality.

But it couldn’t be-

 

**T Minus 4 Days.**

 

There was no way it was Enjolras. It just couldn’t be. The very thought was ridiculous and he pushed it far, far back into the corners of his mind.

It wasn’t Enjolras. It couldn’t be Enjolras. Why the fuck would it be Enjolras?

**T Minus 3 Days.**

 

But what if it was.

Oh God, what if it was?

What did that mean?

What did any of this mean?

And if it wasn’t Enjolras, which it very much could not be, then who the hell was it?

**T Minus 2 Days.**

 

Of course. The explanation was so simple. This wasn’t some grand gesture of love or compassion. Well, there was compassion involved to some extent. The gifts were pricey no question about it, but in his haste to figure out exactly who the gifter was he’d forgotten one slightly important fact.

The fact that explained everything.

Well… Not everything. It didn’t explain the ludicrous amount of care and thought put into the presents but it did explain the gifts themselves.

He’d been overthinking this the whole time when it was right there in front of him.

 

**T Minus 1 Day.**

 

**4:00 am.**

There was no earthly reason to be awake at this ungodly hour usually. But this time he made an exception. Perching himself cross legged in front of his doorway he sipped at his coffee and listened intently. His concentration so focused that it stopped any attempt his brain was making to try and lull him back to sleep.

**5:00 am.**

This was without a doubt the most insanely boring thing he had ever had the dumb idea to do.

There was no guarantee anybody was even coming.

**6:00 am.**

There was a reason he avoided jobs in retail and customer service. He just did not have the patience. Now leaning with his back against the wall, cradling a long past empty mug he wondered why on earth he was wasting such prime sleeping hours.

He was just about to call it quits when he finally heard it.

Soft footsteps in the distance climbing the stairs to his floor. He scrambled to rise quickly, his mug cascading off his lap and rolling away down the hallway, staining dark droplets of leftover coffee onto his carpet. He didn’t care. He held his breath, listening intently with his hand clasped on the door handle.

The footsteps increased in volume but decreased in speed, and he knew with his heart pounding in his chest that they had stopped before his door.

Swinging it open, rather more dramatically than he intended he caught the startled ocean eyes staring up at him.

Enjolras was half standing half crouching as he was evidently frozen in the middle of placing the gift before Grantaire’s door. Grantaire didn’t know which one of them looked more like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hi.” Grantaire said awkwardly.

A whole two hours of sitting on the floor being bored and he couldn’t come up with a better line.

Enjolras straightened himself slowly, his eyes not breaking contact from Grantaire’s as he pulled the delicately wrapped gift in towards him as though protecting it.

“Hi.” Enjolras said finally. He looked as uncomfortable as Grantaire felt.

“So... Were they all from you?” Grantaire asked him slowly.

Enjolras finally broke his gaze away and cast a sideways glance down towards the floor. Looking embarrassed he gripped the gift tighter, causing it to make a slight rustling sound. He didn’t speak, merely nodded towards the floor.

“I’m flattered. Really. And thank you.” Grantaire said mustering as much earnest as he could physically muster into his tone. Seeing Enjolras so humiliated with himself was giving him absolutely no joy. “But you know if you wanted to give me birthday presents you could have just waited until tomorrow.”

Enjolras’ eyes shot up to Grantaire’s once more and were wider than he had ever seen them.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” He asked, the words clearly out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Grantaire found himself bewildered. “Hang on, if you didn’t know it was my birthday then why were you buying me gifts?”

Enjolras hesitated for a moment before quickly shoving the present into Grantaire’s hands.

“I should go.” He said turning on his heel and making to walk away.

“Wait.” Grantaire said grabbing Enjolras’ wrist and keeping him there. Grantaire’s eyes were searching Enjolras’. He looked as though he wanted to tear his own eyes away but he kept them on him, his face apprehensive.

“Do you want to see me open it?”

Still looking a little abashed Enjolras nodded slightly.

Grantaire carefully dropped his hand and kept his eyes on him a moment longer giving him a small smile before turning his attention to the gift. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with a string of yarn tied clumsily around it in what he gathered was an attempt to tie a bow.

Taking his time he unfurled the yarn, pulling it off and pressing it in his palm. He glided his fingernail along the edge where the paper met the tape and broke the seal delicately. Unwrapping the thin paper his face broke into a satisfied beam as a trio of new paintbrushes stared up at him.

“They’re not... They’re not the best. I kind of ran out of money.” Enjolras said tentatively, rubbing the nape of his neck and glaring at the brushes contemptuously as though they’d just slandered democracy.

“They’re perfect.” Grantaire said breathlessly. Enjolras reached his gaze and smiled nervously at him, dropping his arm loosely to his side

“But- and I mean I don’t want to sound greedy or anything here but would you mind if I were to request another gift?”

Enjolras looked slightly surprised but he nodded enthusiastically. “Anything.”

Grantaire took a bold step forward closing what small space they had between them and looked up at Enjolras tenderly. He saw Enjolras swallow and wasn’t sure whose heartbeat he heard hammering louder than thunder.

Enjolras leaned forward in sync with Grantaire’s movements as their lips met together, a moment of shy and soft tentativeness was all it took before they delved deeper within each other, exploring their lips and tongues and teeth with eager and passion. Grantaire threw his arms up around the back of Enjolras’ neck, the paintbrushes dangling loosely from his fingertips and threatening to fall each time Enjolras flicked his tongue against his own.

The sun had risen outside of Grantaire’s apartment building by the time they broke apart. Lost in a hazy smile, Grantaire looked up at Enjolras with endless adoration and was pleasantly surprised to see the look returned.

Grantaire would be happy to return and receive this gift for the rest of his days.

  
  
****

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Hannah! Sorry it's so late!!!


End file.
